End of The Imperium, Rise of Freedom
by RequiemforGods
Summary: The Primachs, fabled sons of The Immortal Emperor, were once scattered across the stars by the Chaos Gods, 18 out of 20 were found, 2 were lost in the warp cast through time and space. To our age, they grew with us, learned like us and now they go back.
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

2

I'm not accustomed to not knowing where I am or how I got there. Yet here I am, in a cell no bigger than a closet, in a strange place, surrounded by even stranger creatures. "Eldar" they call themselves, they look human enough thou slightly taller and more slender. It's their grace agility that set them apart. Without sign or warning they appear and disappear.

When they discovered me it was but three of them, but in the time it took me to blink thousands appeared and surrounded me. Each of the "Eldar" brandished a different weapons and armors, slick and odd just like their owners. From the assembled host a single figure emerged, clearly female as evident from her breast…plate, adorn with a long flowing robe, ornate bone white mantle, ebony black helm and in her hands a long trident which pulses and cracks with energy.

'You are trespassing on sacred ground Mon-keigh.', said the woman, thou she didn't truly speak; more like force her thoughts into my head. 'You have the stench of a Space Marine about you.' She then turns to a few of the warriors behind her and says, 'Hold him. I'll need time to ascertain his purpose or how he came to be here.

Since then I've been in here; held captive, catching fleeting glimpses of my captors through a little gap in the door. A means for them to keep taps on me no doubt. Seeing no means of escape I decided to sleep and rest for their questions, hopefully then I'll be more prepared and able to convince them I not a threat. I settle in and close my eyes, slowly I fall asleep feeling calm for the first time since getting here. Suddenly a violent rumbling brings me back and tosses me from the bed they've provided.

I rise to my feet and run to the door and peer outside through the peep hole. Colossal figures loom in the distance a horde of humanoid monsters clad in dark blue and sickly green armor. A snake with multiple heads, a hydra I think, crudely painted on their shoulder guards, horns sprouts from their helmets and in their arms they cradle Massive guns each the size of my torso. In response to these "THINGS" my captors launch a counter attack.

I know not the size of either army but seeing my captors fall to these invaders in droves bodes ill for them. One of the daunting warriors tosses something into the air in my direction; I can't make it out, but my instincts yell out "GRENADE!"

Reflexively I run to the other side of the room and cover my head. A loud boom and a crumbling wall prove my instincts right, amidst the rubble one of my captors lays broken and dying, a lone hand stretches out and spasms as they succumb to death.

At my feet the Eldar's weapon slides coming to a stop only when it meets. Obviously a gun of sorts, its long slender barrel is testament enough, besides the barrel I was astonished by its near weightlessness; if I wasn't looking at it I wouldn't notice I was carrying it.

My eyes and thoughts drift away from the gun in my hands to the opening made in my cell. I peer out and notice the area is free of combat. I go to leave but I cannot leave the fallen in such a way. I return to my cell and unearth my captor. I have no love for him or his kind, but no one disserves to be left like that. Buried so woefully forgotten only to be discovered by the smell of rotting flesh and blood. No. No one disserves that.

I give prayers to the fallen, hoping his soul can find peace in the next life, before I take my leave. Normally I'm not a pious or religious man, but praying for a soul not my own, even if no one is there to listen, can't hurt. Making my way out of my cell I finally get a good look at where I am, and now I'm certain I'm not on Earth. Spires stretch into the skies ornate and beautifully complex. They are each connected by sprawling pathways flying vehicles soar off into the distance, there is where the battles are raging and there's where I can finally get some answers.

Along my way to where I know the battle with be thickest I avoid anyone or anything else, sticking to the shadows I note the apparent differences in the armies as they clash. The grizzly invaders are all uniform and exactly the same; save for wear and tear on their individual armor. Speaking of which seem to put most tanks to shame, as do their guns shame cannons.

The "Eldar" are different, although groups may where the same armor and guns each group is separate and individualistic. From bizarre to ornate helmets and armors, to wild and confusing weapons, sure many of them are recognizable in appearance and functionality; but even more are completely alien and rather cool. One for example appears to be a lance like one a Mid-Evil knight would wield on horseback but the ones wielded by the Eldar shoot fire out of their tips.

Eventually I make my way to a relatively quiet area where I happen to find a small gaggle of children, although the violence hasn't reached this place the children are terror stricken and huddle together for safety. As I step out of the shadows a shrill scream escapes the tightly grouped children, one turns to me; a young boy by the looks of him, and seems to take a protective stance before the others. I cannot help but respect this "little man" for his bravery and note with some amazement at his features. Like I saw earlier they appear human, but this little guy has pointed ears and pale skin.

"So you're Elves, huh?" I muse out loud, causing another shrill to escape the children. I stick my right hand out to placate them, but it only causes them to scream louder; even the little guy steps back before retaking his lost step. "You're a tough little dude aren't you?"

The young boy looks away from me, his attention fixed elsewhere and I watch in horror as his head explodes into gore. His tiny frame falls limp onto the ground, the children look at his fallen corpse and tears begin to streak down their face.

I feel my heart fill with anger, to shoot a child is unforgivable and I swear to myself that I'll find his killer and make them pay. My quarry isn't far away, in fact tracing the young man's line of sight I see him standing proud with a few of his fellow invaders.

Unlike many of his compatriots he doesn't wear a helmet, I'm thankful for a chance to know the true face of the young one's killer, but I also wish he did wear a helmet. He is apparently human, but his skin is twisted and burned in some areas, bronze and fit in others, his teeth filled sharp and his eyes are as black as hell itself.

"Good. Good. Young innocent souls are far more valuable then old warriors any day." growls the lead, his gun still smoking from the death he just delivered. "Now to collect the rest of them." I watch with disgust that a grim smile begins to form on his lips, he actually enjoys killing children.

He taps the trigger slightly and a bullet the size of my fist comes roaring out, a trail of fire propelling it forward. I run towards the children and throw myself on top of them. I watch in terror as the bullet fractures into a hail of shrapnel, I slam my eyes shut as it comes closer.

"No!" cries the lead, but why?

'I do this for the children, not for you.' I recognize the voice, the female Eldar from earlier. I look up to see her surrounded by azure flames and crackling lightning. 'What happened to that child, mon-keigh?' The thoughts carry into my mind now are laced with anger and barely contained fury.

"He stood and protected the others from me, and because of that those "monsters" took him by surprise and shoot him where he stood." I offer no condolences they would just sting her and enrage her more.

'You are right human to hold your pity; I'd kill you where you stand if you hadn't. Now isn't the time for sorrow, take these children elsewhere, and should any of them face harm, you shall know pain everlasting.'

I turn to walk away and notice an army of considerable size walk past me, the usual assortment of warriors I've seen before. What really takes me by surprise are gargantuan walking robots that walk alongside the warriors, like the warriors they too are slender and graceful, far more so then something as tall as a tree should be. Even more impressive still is a walking giant, wreathed in red flames and sporting a massive sword as large as any of the walking war machines which accompanies it. It's left hand bleeds blood in waterfalls pouring over the land as it walks, speaking of it's steps, the creature seems to scorch the ground with each one.

'HUMAN! Collect yourself, we have not the time for your primitive mind to try and guess as to what you see, so stop and take the children elsewhere. NOW!"

If looks could kill, she'd have dropped after the first insult, but like she said, now isn't the time, thou I think, 'The next time you want a favor how about you lay off the insults, or at least keep them to yourself.' If she had caught any of the she didn't show it, "Don't worry I'll keep your children safe. I just ask that you make the one without the helmet pay for what he did."

'You needn't ask for that human, I take great pleasure in killing your kind, but his ilk, even more so. And for his crimes, I'll see to it personally. '

Again with the insult, but I've spent enough time fighting her. The children who had been so afraid of me not moments ago now huddle around me, trying to push me away from the coming battle. I don't know whether or not they speak English so I try and use body language to point them in the right direction. After we run a fair distance away, I hear the words slip into my mind, 'I apologize."

A faint smile grows on my lips.


	2. Chapter 2

- Farseer-

The human's presence has been unbearable to me and my fellow seers. His appearance has been a mystery and completely unforeseen by all of those that guide the Eldar race. With his arrival many of the ancient and long-held beliefs have had to be changed.

Ancient visions; of war and death, held as all but inevitable have given way to new visions of peace and prosperity. In these new visions the human stands as a brilliant light in the cold darkness of space and purging the evil that lies in its darkest corners and implausible depths. However these visions tell of another, a being of indescribable horror of equal magnitude, the embodiment of chaos, and all forces of chaos; mortal and demonic, bow in worship to it. The creature seeks to drown the human and his light with a sea of blood and bodies, leaving the universe naught but a barren wasteland.

I know not the certainty of these visions but regardless my attentions must be focused on the battle at hand.

'Forward my kin, cleanse this chaos filth from our home!' My warriors let their intent be known, letting out battle cries in reverence to Kaela Mensha Khaine. Our God of War, whose very avatar walks amongst us driving us to plunge into battle and purge the followers of chaos.

Lost souls who torture and kill for their dark gods; only to be destroyed in return. They flock to the chaos gods hoping to be gifted with immortality only to be destroyed or enthralled by the very "gifts" they seek. Regardless of their reasons or wishes they have taken arms against my Craftworld and my people. For that I shall show them the same "generosity" their masters would; given time.

With fire and lightning I cut a bloody path through the charging ranks of cultists, worthless shock troops great only I number and the messes they leave behind. Behind them loom fallen space marines; human super soldiers, one of their ranks charge me. He flails a demonically possessed arm in a horizontal arc, in a futile attempt to end my life. With a simple thrust of my trident I free the marines head free from his body and side step allowing the cadaver to fall. Of all things to set foot in my home, to set foot on my Craftworld, these fallen marines are by far the most disgusting; I feel the need to spit.

I watch with awe and admiration as the Avatar marches into battle against a powerful Bloodthirster. A demon of unimaginable power and carnage, a worthy opponent for the Avatar, wielding a duel-bladed axe and a whip made from the flesh of the damned.

The two colossi begin circling one another, crushing anything underfoot too slow to move.

The two warriors begin brandishing their weapons and growling fiercely trying to goad the other into action. Seeing the other unwilling to strike first they begin howling out battle cries, the warriors which battle around their feet do the same. The battle cries of both my kin and those of the enemy meld together into a massive feral roar of carnage and wrath.

The Bloodthirster is the first to act, lashing out at the feet of the Avatar with its' whip while rising its' axe high into the air. The Avatar narrowly sidesteps the blow and allows the axe to slide down the length of it's' blade; sending sparks of rain on the ground below. With an elegant strike from it's' blade the Avatar cleaves the Bloodthirster's whip arm clean of its' body. The daemon lets out of cry of agony and rage as it dislodges it's axe from the ground and buries it deep into the chest of the Avatar.

The Avatar; who was rising the Wailing Doom to deliver another strike, loses it's grip and sends the blade flying into the sky. The Avatar kneels in pain before the Bloodthirster; who with a terrifying roar, decapitates him and succumbs to its own wounds and is banished to the pit from whence it came.

With the fall of both warriors each side gives pause, momentarily put back. The fighting resumes as a bolter round comes flying at me; only to be caught in the mechanical hands a nearby Wrathlord. My kin continue on towards victory; but without the war cry made manifest, without the Avatar, despair fills their hearts. I can see it in their minds, sense it in their souls and feel it even within myself.

-Human-

The women had told me to see the kids off to safety but turns out that they're leading me. Knowing this place better than I do they've shown me safe paths to take and have kept me from plummeting to my death off of one of the many walkways I saw earlier.

Eventually we find a dilapidated building that looks like it's already seen some combat; the absence of bodies isn't lost on me but is of little concern. Ushering the children inside I motion for them to hide in a corner where they can't be seen from the outside. I take position outside; keep my eyes open for anything that might threaten the children.

A soft sigh causes my attention to wonder inside where the children have fallen asleep, no doubt exhausted from today's events. I take notice of how innocent they look and how out of place they are in the environment we've found ourselves in; war isn't a place for non-combatants and certainly not for children. A sudden breeze causes the children to shudder in cold, and off in the distance I see a large tattered cloth blowing in the winds.

I leave the children to their slumber and return with the cloth, it's colors and patterns are those of the warriors I saw earlier. I don't know much about these people or their culture but surely they value their children far more than their coat of arms. A content smile tells me that the children at least appreciate the warmth provide and I resume my post.

A thunderous roar echoes through the streets but doesn't seem to awaken the children. In the sky I see the massive sword; wielded by the red giant earlier, come barreling at me. I realize with horror that the sword will crash into the building and I don't think the children will be agile enough to flee in time; especially after just waking.

A discarded sword lies nearby and I instinctively pick it up, wondering to myself how is it going to help. The sword however isn't going to give me time to pause and meditate on that thought as it closes the gap between us. With sword in both hands; casting aside the gun from before, I take a batter's position and prepare to attempt to; in some degree, redirect the sword from its' current path.

My instincts yell at me to run or at least dodge, but reason overpowers it with the knowledge that if these kids die, I will die; regardless of with by this sword or another. I take my swing and close my eyes, awaiting death to claim me when I hear.

'Human, you would sacrifice yourself to save these Eldar youth?' it's a voice unlike any I've heard before. Thunderous, wrathful and most of all vengeful, it echoes all around me like a church bell within its steeple.

Slowly, hesitantly, I open my eyes. I find myself in a place completely unknown to me, colors of every kind twist and turn around me; images assault my mind, pictures of grand heroes and untold horrors. The sound of rushing water fills the space around me; like a tempest, but off in the distance the voice comes again.

'Answer me human, I have not the patience to deal with the absent minded.' My eyes settle upon the red giant from earlier, sat upon a throne as if he was God himself.

"I am Loganthrin Dasnat, and I care not for what form a person takes, be they Human or Eldar! I care only for who the person is, and these children are innocent in my eyes!" I hear my own words echo into the nothingness around me; and hearing them sparks pride in my chest.

A serious look adorns the giant's face; almost as if he's judging me or questioning my sincerity.

'You intrigue me human; I see strength in you that I haven't seen in millennia. You seek to protect these children and these people even thou they are not your own. Then I shall grant onto you my power, my strength and my wisdom, more than enough to safeguard them from the dangers of this world and the one beyond.'

The giant stretches forth his hand in a manner suggesting honesty, but my mind comes to only one response….."Why?"

The mammoth being rises from his seat and explodes into a fiery column.

'Question not powers beyond your comprehension mortal! I have offered you power beyond your wildest dreams! Strength beyond measure! And all the knowledge of the universe! You should bow before me in thanks and reverence!'

"I bow to no one!" I reply, my voice forcing its way out before I could stop it. I take a step further; aggressively before I add, "And who are you to ask such things of me?"

The fiery column burst into a maelstrom or fire surrounding me with its intensity as the giant roars.

'I am Kaela Mensha Khaine! The War Cry made Manifest! The God of War to the Eldar race! All those that march off to war do so in my name!' I do not flinch before "Khaine's" outburst, if I do, I could lose myself to this so call "God of War".

"I will not bow before you, no matter what titles you bare! Besides, if you are indeed an "Eldar" God then you should understand why I would question your offer of help." I force my voice to be humble, placating, for as it stands, I'm again in a place unfamiliar to me and with no means to get back.

The inferno subsides, but Khaine remains. His face and voice still showing his ire, but at least he's calmed somewhat.

'I take no notice in the differences between Human or Eldar, for both are lesser creatures to me. Tell me mortal. Do you concern yourself with one insect over another?' countered Khaine as he assumed his place on his throne.

I find myself stumped, not once in my life have I thought about things in that perspective; suddenly I feel incredibly small. I glare at Khaine and am greeted with a smug smirk, I can feel my heart fill with resentment and distrust.

"Alright, Khaine. Before I agree, why don't you tell me about how this will work."

Khaine sighs as he sits forward, hiding his face behind his hands.

'My power shall flow into you, warping you, breaking you and reforming you to a form more suiting to my presence. My knowledge will enlighten you to all the impossible truths of this realm and all others; stripping you of your individuality and making you submissive to my instructions. In the end you shall become a part of me.'

If my jaw was any lower I would taste my toes. "So let me get this straight, I'll basically become your puppet?"

'Yes.' The ease in his tone and speed of his response doesn't help quell my growing resentment.

"I cannot accept. I refuse to be someone's puppet; divine or otherwise." I turn to leave only to see Khaine sitting before me. In shock I look back and forth, only to see him still there with a smirk growing with each turn.

Khaine's eyes narrow when I finally stop. 'Listen well mortal, you are in my realm all things here are as I wish for them to be. You cannot leave this place without my consent and only after submitting yourself to me shall I grant you that. If you continue to defy me, I will destroy you.'

I sigh as I contemplate my options. "Khaine I'm not the first you've giving this option to, right?" Khaine gives a low growl as he explains that every so often he gives his powers to a chosen Eldar warrior, as I saw earlier when the Eldar engaged the invaders.

"Interesting…" I muse to myself, "Thou it does beg the question as to why bother with a host at all?" For the first time in our exchange Khaine remains silent. I can't help but grin at his apparent "unwillingness" to talk.

"You need a host don't you? You can't exist outside your realm, can you?" Khaine again burst into a fiery column; the novelty of which has worn thin.

'That may be the case, but in my realm! In my DOMAIN! I have no such limitations!' roars Khaine as he lunges at me, hand outstretched to grab me. I brace for it, placing my sword's point out in front of me, but Khaine simply ignores it and grabs me. I clench my teeth as he leaves only my head free to move.

"Why is it so important for you to get out of here?" I gasp, struggling in vain to move.

Khaine doesn't release me but his fire dies down, and his voice softens in tone as he answers. 'Here in the warp, in my realm I am all powerful. Yet because of my awesome might if I were to enter the material realm my powers would rend space and time in twain forcing me back into the warp; along with the surrounding area. In the end I'm a prisoner of my own incredible power.'

"You sure it's not your ego?" Khaine doesn't respond but simply squeezes harder, "How about a compromise!" I yelp.

'I'm listening.'

"How about we share my body?"

'Wouldn't work. My presence would simply overtake yours. Anything I poses would just become an extension of myself.'

Thankfully Khaine has let me go, dropping me to the ground a good 5 to 7 feet. With my ribs no longer being crushed I'm freed up to think up more compromises. "What can you posses other than a living person?"

'Don't know, never tried. I could possibly posses that sword in your hand.' reasons Khaine as he motions to the sword.

I look at the sword and back at Khaine, "This?"

'Yes. That sword you're carrying is made of "Wraithbone". It is a material made from the warp itself. As such, it is made of pure psychic energy and therefore could possibly be a vessel for me. Thou if it doesn't work my only option will be to take your body as my host.'

"It's still a better option than willingly being a puppet." I hope that this works, the thought of being a slave has never sat well with me. I hold the sword out in front of me and leave enough of the hilt for my other hand.

'Then we have an agreement.' declares Khaine. Seamlessly he shrinks down to my size and grips the blade with his right hand. The sound of raging waves assaults my ears, as I close my eyes I can feel my arm being wrapped in flames. The pain becomes too much, I grit my teeth and howl in pain, Khaine's mocking laughter echoing into the nothingness around me.


	3. Chapter 3

-Avatar-

The ground smolders around my feet, fire radiates from my form as if I were made of pure flame. My right arm, with which I hold my blade; the Wailing Doom, bleeds swiftly upon the ground and yet I feel no pain or loss of strength. As I begin to take in my surroundings I see the young Eldar children recoil in fear at my presence. "Worry not, for I shall not harm you."

A distant explosion shakes the ground, immediately I sense the cause of the explosion and see the battle from which it came. I begin to feel the forces at play in battle, the enemy is mute to me, but the Eldar's hearts sing to the heavens. Hymns of pain and lose at friend and family. Symphonies of valour and strength as they stand against their foes. Cacophonies of battles cries between friends and battle brothers. The battle cries resound with me most of all.

"I must go now." I say as I look towards the children. "You must remain hidden, take to the shadows. Remain there until I return." Two of the older children nod and begin ordering the younger ones towards a darkened, sturdy building. Soon all the children are on their feet and make towards the building; one by one taking flight into shadows, save one.

The child remaining behind looks to me, judging me with her eyes. At once her eyes dart towards the gun discarded on the ground. Smiling I pick up the gun, which glows a bright fiery orange, "Do you want this weapon?"

"Yes!" yells the child, her voice clear and crisp with resolve.

"Then kneel." The child obeys and falls upon one knee. "What is your name?"

"Tha'shel," answers Tha'shel with reverence.

"Tha'shel, I place upon you the task of safeguarding those with whom you travel. Go now!" Tha'shel takes hold of the weapon and races off after the others. Turning away I walk towards the battle. The Eldar's hearts have called for aid.

The Avatar of Khaine must answer.

-Farseer-

Do the mon-keigh hold nothing sacred? With the lose of their Bloodthirster the warriors of Chaos turn to the lesser denizens of the warp for aid and assistance. Gathering together their dead, dying and weakest cultist the Sorcerers of Chaos begin casting their foul magicks to bring forth innumerable horrors. A massive Bloodletter emerges first, carving its way out of a pile of Cultist followers into the materium, a small contingent of ten lesser Bloodletters follow behind. From individual corpses Horrors spring forth in an explosion of blood and viscera, warp fire in hand and screams resounding from their lips.

Against these new abominations my warriors stand firm, but loses come quickly. The few Aspect Warriors among us switch from slaughtering Cultist to confronting the daemonic forces. The Black Guardians likewise switch from supporting the Aspect Warriors to taking over the front lines; using their heavy weapons to keep back the Cultist hordes.

The Wraithlords and Wraithguards have held the line against the Defilers sent against them, but not without casualties. One Defiler managed to slay a few of the wraiths before meeting its end at the hands of the WraithSeer among the others. With the Defilers held back, the SpiritSeer in command of the wraiths collects the soul stones of the fallen, ensuring the honored dead can continue to rest in safety. Free from the Great Enemy.

Seers of every kind: Warlocks and even fellow Farseers, dot the battlefield fighting alongside our kin, or conducting their actions against our foes. Amidst the thickest fighting a group of seers have joined together and cut a bloody swath through the Space Marines present among the cultist legions.

A feral roar brings my attention to the battle between a squad of Howling Banshees and the Bloodletters. The Banshees fight with all their strength, delivering swift agile blows against the deamons. Despite the graceful assault of the Banshees the Bloodletters continue unfazed, either deflecting or enduring and retaliating with their own powerful blows.

One of the Banshees succumbs and falls to her knees before the larger Bloodletter, but before the daemon can strike her down I summon a psychic bolt of lightning and blast the foul creature back into the blade of one of its lesser kin. The Banshees spare me a passing glance, "Our thanks lady Farseer!"

_'No need my kin,' _I reply as I ready my Singing Spear, having drawn the larger Bloodletter's attention. The daemon beast growls fiercely as it pulls itself free from the others blade, with a flourish of its sword, the Bloodletter smites its lesser kin and takes its blade as its own. Bellowing loudly the Bloodletter surges past the Banshees and leaps at me; both blades at the ready.

Breathing deep I brace myself, surviving the initial flurry of blows either through deflection or avoidance. The daemon lunges with both blades aiming for my chest, missing by only a fraction as I twist to left. With the daemon helpless I bury my spear into the wound left open by the blade in the daemon's hand. Focusing my thoughts I arc lightning through the spear and directly into the beast's chest.

With a final feral roar the daemon falls to its knees before erupting into flames and disappears from this world. Sighing happily in victory I look to find the Banshees relaxing and observing; seemingly enjoying the show. "Well done, Lady Farseer. Perhaps you would like to join the Banshee Temple?"

Bravado? I often times forget the humor to be found in the other paths. _'I think not. My path is that of the Witch. However should you find yourself in need, I'll be sure to guide you.' _The Banshees give a short laugh and a salute before bounding off into the melee, eager to let their swords feast upon the enemy's flesh.

_'Eldar Witch!' _The voice sears my mind with the damnable magics of the warp. _'Hear me Witch! Give us the human!'_

_ 'What madness would posses you to make you believe that I would acquiesce to demands, human?' _Casting my sights across the field of battle I see the murderer from earlier, the one the human requested dead, laying his hand upon one of his sorcerers.

Seeing that I had found him, the human hefts up a large bag, _'This bag has fifty or your people's spirit stones! If you will not meet my demands than I shall crush them!'_

Fifty?! Foul blasphemous heathen! _'Stand down my warriors. Stand Down!' _The fighting slowly stops, sputtering as neither side desires the let the other live. Finally after a few minutes the fight stops, _'Name your terms human!'_

_ 'The human, the one that came here before us!' _From the pained thoughts of my warriors I can tell the human is speaking to all the Eldar present. _'Give us the human and we'll leave your Craftworld in tact.'_

My warriors stir, whispering to one another, while the seers share conversations in the minds. _'And what importance does this human have that you would sacrifice so much to claim him?'_

_'Nice try witch,' _taunts the human. _'You've gotten all the information you need. The human, for these souls; Eldar Souls, and the safety of your Craftworld. Is one human worth all that?'_

_ 'The human is right! Why should we risk so much for a simple mon-keigh!' _shouts one Warlock psychically.

_'Give him the human Taldeer!' _agrees another.

_'We can't trust the followers of Chaos!' _dissents the SpiritSeer. _'The Alpha Marines are followers of all Chaos Gods, Slaanesh included.'_

_ 'Do not utter that name here, SpiritSeer!' _commands one of the Farseers, _'That name is forbidden on the Craftworld!'_

_ 'Brothers! Sisters!' _I call, trying to quell the chaos among our ranks. _'Join your thoughts with mine.' _One by one my fellow seers join their thoughts with my own, creating a barrier with which we can speak privately, were we can plan in secret. _'I have no intention of sacrificing our Craftworld or the souls of our kins to these humans.' _A round of cheers greats my statement. _'However, I will not give up the human to them either.'_

_ 'But lady Taldeer?' _asks the SpiritSeer, _'How do you plan to do it?'_

_ 'Just watch my dear. I need you to mask my thoughts from the sorcerers.' _The collection of seers focus their minds further protecting my thoughts from the enemy. Secure in the knowledge that my thoughts are indeed my own, I reach out and touch the mind of the Warp Spider Exarch, Rognar. _'Rognar, do you hear me?'_

_ 'I await your commands my Farseer,' _answers Rognar, his thoughts eager for battle.

_'Calm yourself, Rognar. You shall have your desire soon enough.' _With Rognar ready I search the shadows.

_'Looking for me dear Sister?' _

I can't fight a smile, _'Ronahn, I have need of your services. Is your sight as good as they were before your self imposed exile?'_

Ronahn chuckles, _'Better than your's on Kronus dear sister, I spotted the Tau Pathfinders among your holdings days before you did.'_

I must remember to speak with him further on that, but for now, _'Very well. Rognar, Ronahn I will need you to follow my instructions perfectly. Am I understood?' _

_ 'Yes, Lady Farseer.'_

_ 'Of course sister. My skills are your's to use.'_

_ 'Thank you. Ronahn, I will need you to relieve the human of the bag in his hands. A well place shot should cause him to drop it.'_

_ 'Or even better, drop him.' _

_ 'Not now, brother! He has information that we need, I would keep him alive to prob his mind for what information he has.' _Ronahn says no more, an unspoken consent understood from our youth. _'Good, Rognar. Once the mon-keigh drops the bag I need you to retrieve the stones and return them to me.'_

_ 'As you will Farseer!' _answers Rognar, before prepping his armor for the jump into the warp.

With both warriors ready, I give the signal. Ronahn is true to his word. His shot is straight and precise, shattering the armor of the mon-keigh and digging deep within the flesh and bone underneath. Reacting to the pain the human drops the bag and the precious stones within. In a series of flashes, Rognar catches the bag and returns them to me, not once giving the enemy the chance to react.

The human looks upon me with fire in his eyes, _'Now mon-keigh, what have you to say?'_

"Destroy them!" roars the human. "Destroy them all! Slaughter them and bring the human to me!" The battle reignites with both sides hungry for death and blood. The Howling Banshees leap and charge towards the lead human brandishing their swords and their masks alive with the Banshees' Call. Before I can join the fray a thunderous rumbling echoes from the nearby alleyways.

"You want me, murderer?" comes a booming voice. I recognize the human's voice, but it's different. It's powerful. It works its way into my soul and fills me with a measure of bravery. How is this possible. My answer comes when the human emerges from alley, wreathed in orange flames, holding in his hands the Wailing Doom.

"Then come and claim me!" Staring at the human I find myself asking the same question as before.

Do the mon-keigh hold nothing sacred?


End file.
